


dead kids

by kiiexo



Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, School Shootings, Violence, i guess, i honestly don't know what else to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16635992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiiexo/pseuds/kiiexo
Summary: He barely remembers hearing the gunshots lessen and end altogether, all of his energy and focus on the one boy in front of him. He clutched so tightly to his shirt he was afraid that it might rip, but nothing like that mattered right now.Stan still wasn’t moving and Kyle was helpless to do anything about it.





	dead kids

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't posted anything on here in like fuckin,, six years??? so uh hi again. new fandom new me. so like listen,,, i know this episode was ages ago and whatever i was hyped up on cold medicine and extremely depressed and this happened. this is barely edited and i kind of hate it but i was convinced to put it up here anyways. let me stop rambling and get on with it.

The school was in chaos. This had to have been the third time in the past week that their school had been the victim of a shooting. And each time it got worse and worse. The teachers seemed to not have any fucking clue what to do, running around in the halls trying to take down the gunman. Students would get up out of their seats and peer out the door, or go out into the hallways only to never be seen again. 

It terrified Kyle every single time. He’d taken to hiding under his desk, a few other students following his lead as they tried to stay undetected. Cartman was nowhere to be seen this time, and surprisingly, Token was gone from the classroom, too. He only hoped that Token wasn’t caught up in one of Cartman’s grand schemes again.

The constant barrage of bullets ricocheting off the walls and passing cleanly through doors was a constant reminder that he was not safe, and Kyle felt himself trembling. His legs were pulled up, the front of his thighs against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his shins as he rested his chin against his knees. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill over as he waited for this hell to finally fucking end.

A few desks away from him, he could hear Clyde crying, as softly as he could manage so that no one outside could hear him. It didn’t really work though, and Kyle had half a mind to tell him to shut up but to afraid to open his mouth. 

A sound much like a cornered animal might make suddenly escaped past his lips as the gunshots seemed to get closer. A tiny, trembling hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. Kyle managed to open his eyes and look around next to him to see Stan in a similar state as him. Just as terrified, just as helpless, just as alone. Still, the darker haired boy gave Kyle the biggest smile he could muster. 

Everything’s going to be okay.

The gunshots were so close now, almost right outside the door to their classroom, and Stan’s grip on his shoulder was so tight kyle was afraid he might break the bone. 

Suddenly the door swung open and it was like time itself had stopped. 

He very faintly remembers what happened next. He heard shouting, yelling, the sound of the metal legs of the desks scraping against the floor as they were being pushed away. 

Gunshots.

Screaming.

He didn’t even remember if he was the one screaming.

But as fast as it had happened, it stopped.

He was afraid to look up for the longest time. The room was so quiet and he didn’t want to deal with what he was going to find upon opening his eyes.

And then he remembered Stan.

Stan, who had tried to offer him what little comfort he could just moments before.

Stan, who had tried to reassure him with the bravest smile he’d ever seen.

Stan, who’s hand was not on his shoulder anymore.

Kyle’s eyes snapped open as he whipped his head up, eyes wide as he searched for Stan. He could still hear Clyde crying somewhere behind him, quiet sobs and sniffles the only noise that filled the room.

He didn’t have to look far for Stan. And when he saw him he wished that he had never opened his eyes to begin with. 

He was almost directly in front of him, body splayed out on the floor like he’d crashed into it. He almost looked like a doll, except for the unnatural way his arm was bent back and blood seemed to be just pouring out of him. 

It didn’t feel real. None of this felt real. He almost didn’t realize it until he was right in front of Stan that he had moved, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold onto the fabric of Stan’s shirt as he gently shook him.

“Stan..?” Kyle asked, so soft he barely even heard it. “Stan, come on. This isn’t- this isn’t funny!” His voice cracked, and he could feel his chest tighten with an almost agonizing pain as sobs threatened to release themselves from the back of his throat.

He shook him again, and again, trying to get him to respond. But he just laid there, motionless as Clyde cried in the background, calling out to a mom who would never answer him back. 

Tears were freely falling down his cheeks now, leaving glistening streaks against his skin as he stared down helplessly at his unconscious best friend. 

Stan had been shot and now suddenly nothing felt real anymore. Like Kyle’s whole world was falling apart and crashing down in front of him.

He barely remembers hearing the gunshots lessen and end altogether, all of his energy and focus on the one boy in front of him. He clutched so tightly to his shirt he was afraid that it might rip, but nothing like that mattered right now. 

Stan still wasn’t moving and Kyle was helpless to do anything about it.

“Help…” he can hear himself muttering, voice low as he tries not to sob. “Anyone? Please… oh my god, Stan.” 

His heart is beating so erratically he’s afraid it might pop out of his chest and onto the bloody mess that was his best friend. 

“Help! Somebody please help me!” he said louder, eyes blurry with tears and his entire body shaking with fear. “He’s not waking up, oh god..!” 

He found himself leaning forward, burying his head into Stan’s chest as he waited for someone to come help. Kyle could very faintly feel the rise and fall of Stan’s chest under him, and it offered him as much comfort as it could as he waited for someone, anyone to come save his best friend.

“Stan you can’t fucking die, okay?” he pleaded into his shirt, “You can’t die until I die, asshole.”


End file.
